And The Rest is History
by bosswoman88
Summary: When Rayna met Deacon. Reflections
1. Chapter 1

**I don't usually write in this format, so it's something new for me….Let me know what you think **

Rayna stares at her reflection in the vanity mirror, frowning at the 16- year old who stares back at her. She knows she has her mother's eyes. Where all this red hair came from, nobody in the family seems to know that.

When she was younger, her mother used to say it made her special, and it made her stand out. She'd always been proud of being able to stand out, but lately it is not as fun anymore.

The girls at school don't like her. The "normal" kids think she's a snob because she lives in Belle Meade and her daddy owns half the town. The country club daughters that Lamar wants her to be friends with, they don't like her either. They think she's weird because she doesn't hang out at the mall, or giggle like idiots over clothes and football players.

She thinks she'd rather be alone, anyway, and she thinks those girls are stupid. She'd rather be writing songs. Thinking. Listening to the old records of her mother's she'd fought Lamar to keep. It keeps her from feeling alone. She misses her sister.

Tandy is in college now. Sure, she's just across town- Lamar refuses to pay for her to go anywhere else but Vanderbilt, Tandy has her own apartment. Their father wouldn't let her live in the dorm with boys. _You can come visit any time_, Tandy says every time she calls. But Lamar doesn't know Tandy spends her weekends filling that apartment with people who drink things and smoke things that Rayna doesn't really have much interest in.

She is lonely. She is always lonely.

_I just want someone to get me,_ she thinks.

It's been four years, but times like this is when Rayna misses her mother the most.

She sighed, vigorously runs a brush through her thick hair. She goes to the closet and pulls out the white and gold cowboy boots her daddy says make her look too "redneck", and goes downstairs.

##########################################

The house is huge, and wide open, and always bustling with activity of her father's staff in and out. Lamar is nowhere in sight, probably at a business meeting.

And Rayna lies. She tells the nanny- who really at this point in her life is pointlessly being paid by her father to watch television and do crossword puzzles- that she is going to study at her friend Susie's house tonight and will be home promptly by 11. Tandy and her wild ways might have needed a nanny after their mom died, but Rayna finds it indignant. She is the good, dutiful, daughter. She does not need a nanny.

She walks outside, retrieves her mother's guitar from where it's been hidden in the garden shed, and walks three blocks. Watty picks her up.

They talk easily on the ride, about the music execs that are going to be there tonight, about the song she wants to sing. It's one she wrote herself. She's never performed in front of anyone except Watty and the guys in his studio. She is nervous, but excitement wins out.

This is her chance, Watty says. This is when she gets to show them what she can do.

Watty is like an uncle to her. He's always been around. He helped her mother find her voice, he says. And now he's gonna help her. He promises, like he always does.

She is nervous and excited, and a whole bunch of things she can't quite put into words.

"You don't think my father will find out, do you?" She asks worriedly. They both know Lamar will probably lock her room for the next 20 years if he finds out that the "Susie" she'd been spending time with for the last two years didn't exist, how she'd been taking the afternoon bus downtown twice a week to spend time in Watty's studio.

"It'll be fine," Watty says, not even the least bit concerned. "It'll all be fine."

She wishes she could believe him. Because all she really wants to do is sing.

##################################

Watty takes her to the Bluebird Cafe. It's open mic night.

Rayna has never been inside, but she knows the legendary stories. This is where they all started, all the big names. It's a big deal, to get a chance to be on this little stage.

"Are you sure you want to play?" Watty asks as they walk inside, her awkwardly carrying the guitar case. "Because we have plenty of guys here on standby."

"I wrote the song," she insists. "I should play it."

He doesn't look too thrilled at the idea.

She's not a guitar player. She never will be and he knows it. Her fingers are too clumsy, and she can't seem to find a way to hold it without looking as awkward as hell. Just like her mama. And just like her mama, Rayna's skills aren't in her hands. They're in her voice.

He smiles at the memory of Virginia. Her daughter has that same stubborn tilt of her chin, that same determination in her eyes.

"Okay," he sighs.

##################################

Watty gets her a room in back to practice while she waits.

Rayna plucks at the strings, frustrated when she hits a wrong note and the guitar screeches.

She momentarily considering tossing it halfway across the room, but it's her mama's, and that will never do.

Resigned, she puts the guitar away, and walks down the hallway to tell Watty she changed her mind about the playing part.

Watty is standing in the back, listening to the guy who is currently on the stage.

So she listens too. He has dark unruly hair, and sort of a….reckless way of playing. It seems like he is just up there giving it hell and not caring much if anyone likes it or not.

Rayna is definitely impressed, listening to him cover a Johnny Cash song.

She isn't the only one admiring him. Every female in the room seems to be trying to catch his eye or get a smile tossed in her direction.

"Whose that?" She asks Watty, never taking her eyes off him.

"Deacon Claybourne. He's a bartender here." Watty say. "Plays around town a lot."

"He's good."

"Yes he is. Did you change your mind about playing yet?"

"Yes," she admits to Watty. "I need a guitar player."

Watty hides his smile. "Great. I'll go find you one."

Her eyes go back to the guy playing on stage, and something in her stomach starts dancing.

"I want that one," she says with determination.

Watty raises his eyebrows.

"I'll see what I can do."

###########################################

She waits in the back with Watty, getting in a little more practice, running through her scales.

A knock on the door makes her stop singing, and she looks up.

"Watty, you wanted to see me?" He is standing there, the guy from the stage, still with a Gibson in one hand and now a beer in the other.

"Yes, I did," Watty pushes her forward. "This is Rayna. She needs a guitar player for tonight, are you up for it?"

Suddenly she feels uncomfortable standing there as "Deacon Claybourne" looks her up and down. She knows how it looks, standing there with her expensive boots and her rhinestone jacket on. Most of these artists who do open mics are not well off at all, living off tips in a coffee can. He doesn't look too well off himself, she thinks. His boots are scuffed, and there's holes in the knees of his jeans, and the elbows of his flannel shirt too. There is definitely an aura of "I don't care" about him, and she likes it. She likes somebody who doesn't give a damn what anyone else thinks.

She wants to be more than way. She _would _be more that way, if Lamar Wyatt wasn't her father.

They are just stand there staring at each other, when Watty clears his throat, breaking the moment.

"Well, Deacon, what do you say?"

"Sure," he says with a slight drawl. "I guess."

"Good," Watty says. "She's got the song, I'll leave you two back here to figure it out. You got a half hour."

"Um, okay," Rayna says, suddenly all her confidence gone as Watty leaves them alone. "Here's the words and the chords."

Deacon reaches out to take the papers from her hands and their fingers brush.

She jerks her hand back at the tingle that runs up her arm, and raised her eyes to his again.

Something in his blue eyes has her forgetting to breath for just a minute. Amusement, mischief, but something else behind it. Maybe a little hint of darkness.

She lets her breath out real slow and even, and turns away. "Okay, let's uh…just do the song, okay?"

"You got it."

Halfway through her song, Deacon forgets to play and just listens to her sing.

_This girl has it_, he realizes. No wonder Watty's been talking for weeks about getting her on a stage. She has a voice like a stubborn angel.

"What?" Rayna pauses. "What's wrong? Why did you stop playing?"

"Nothing," he says, and he starts playing again. But it's still there. The feeling in his gut that this is different. He has played backup for more than one little princess trying to play musician to piss off her rich daddy.

This is different.

Something deeper.

Somehow he knows this instantly.

She has him already.

_Ridiculous_, he thinks. _She's a 16 year old girl._

He's just about to hit 20. But it's an old 20. He's been in this town for three years now, and barely gotten anywhere. But anywhere is better than where he's been.

He can't shake the feeling away. It stays. He doesn't know it at that moment, but it will stay with him for a lifetime. Through the best and worst times of his existence, it will be the one constant. It will be the thing that keeps him going when nothing else can, and pulls him out of the darkest shadows. When he breaks her heart, when she breaks his, when he watches her walk away, and come back, and walk away again….

The feeling will stay.

#######################################

They are five minutes from going onstage, when the cellphone in her pocket rings.

She's embarrassed that she forgot to turn it off, so she turns away to answer it.

His eyes watch her.

Lamar's voice echoes in her ear like a foghorn.

"I want you back in this house in thirty minutes."

Her heart sinks all the way to the toes of her boots. "Daddy? But how did you…."

"It doesn't matter how. Do as I say."

Lamar never just asks. He commands. Of his employees AND his daughters.

She tries to reason with him. "Daddy, it's really important that I can sing tonight. Watty says there's some important industry people here and-."

But Lamar isn't having any of it.

Resigned, she ends the call.

Deacon is still listening, watching her, even if he pretends he is more interested in the guy that's playing before them. He can only hear her end, but it doesn't sound pretty. And hard as she tries to hide em, he can see the tears.

Before he realizes it, she's headed for the back door.

"Wait," he reaches out and puts a hand on her arm. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go home," she says quietly.

She looks defeated. Broken.

"Why?"

"Well, I'm not really supposed to be here," she finds herself saying.

"I think you're wrong," he says in a low voice. "I think this is exactly where you're supposed to be." He points to the stage. "And there."

She shakes her head slowly. "He said I can't come back. You don't know who my father is."

"Look," Deacon stands in front of her with his guitar in his hands. It's their turn. He has only a minute to change her mind. If she walks out that door, he knows he'll never seen her again. And neither will the Bluebird, or any other stage. "I don't care who your daddy is. You should never let anyone stop you from doing what you want."

They are calling her name. Rayna Jaymes. The Jaymes part is from her mother. It is Watty's idea, and she likes it. She likes the idea of making her own name, separate from Lamar and all the things that being a Wyatt means.

"Okay," she says, her voice shaky. "Let's do it."

"Okay," he says, shooting her a smile.

_I get one of those smiles_, she thinks. _No wonder the girls like him so much._

She doesn't think about later, or consequences, or anything else except this guy named Deacon who is taking her hand and leading her onto that stage.

######################################

It's easy to sing with him there next to her, she realizes. She doesn't even remember the crowd is there, hardly notices the execs in the front row.

"Don't get nervous," he says to her just before they start. "Don't look at them. Just look at me, okay?"

"Okay," she nods.

So she does.

Trouble is, when they somehow get through the song, she can't stop looking at him. His eyes are pulling her in, and butterflies are dancing in her stomach.

_This is crazy,_ she thinks. _I don't even know him_, _but I think he gets me_.

The congratulations when they come off are the best feeling she's ever had. They like her, Watty says. More than that, they love her.

"We need to cut some demos ASAP," Watty says. "This is it, girl. You did good."

"Sure," she says. "Whatever you think, Watty."

But she is already scanning the crowd for Deacon.

She's disappointed to see he's already back behind the bar. Back to work.

And now, she has nowhere to go.

################################################

Deacon is surprised when they close down at midnight to realize she's still there. Sitting in a back booth in the corner by herself, watched the last musicians pack up.

"What are you still doing here?"

"I wasn't kidding," she says, her eyes looking uncertain. "He said I can't come home."

"Aw, he was probably just mad. Nobody would really do that."

She shakes her head slowly. "You don't know my father. He always says what he means."

"Who the hell does he think he is, God?"

"No," she says. "Lamar Wyatt."

_Shit_, he thinks. Lamar Wyatt's little girl.

Everything suddenly made a whole lot of sense.

And a whole lotta trouble.

With a sigh, he gestures towards the door. "C'mon. Let's go."

"I told you. I don't have anywhere to go."

"We'll worry about that tomorrow."

###############################

Deacon drives.

They're in his crappy old truck. Rayna is a little afraid the wheels might roll off at any minute.

But secretly, it's a thrill. She's never even been alone with a guy her own age, let alone one like this one, who wasn't so much a boy at all, but a man.

Something about him makes her want to ask him so many things, but he doesn't seem like a guy much likely to talk about himself.

He has old eyes, she thinks, watching him as he stares straight ahead at the yellow line on the highway like its gonna disappear or something. He's seen things. She wonders what they are. She wonders where he came from, how he ended up here. _Everyone has a story_, Watty always tells her. _The best kind of people are the ones who can turn em into a song. _

Deacon takes her to the one room apartment where he lives in the less well-off part of town. It's small. Small enough that you can sit on the arm of the couch and put your feet on the end of the bed at the same time.

"It's not much," Deacon says. "I just moved in about six months ago. Just temporary til I can get something better."

It had taken that long. Lots of nights sleeping in his truck, sleeping on couches, sleeping in cheap motels before he could even afford this. Lots of days going hungry.

He's not one to care about what people think.

But this one time, he cares.

"It's yours, right?" She says. "Nobody tells you what to do or where to kick off your boots."

"This is true," he says, unable to keep the grin off his face. "You can have the bed."

"Oh, you don't have to," she looks embarrassed. "I can sleep on your couch. Or the…floor, or…whatever."

"Not a big deal," he says easily.

She sits on the edge of the bed gingerly, and watches as he stretches out on the couch with his boots still on.

"I have nothing," she says, her pretty face suddenly looking so alarmed. "No money or anything. I don't even have any clothes."

He wants to say he knows how that feels. Because he does.

"Don't worry about it. You can figure it out tomorrow."

"I have _nothing_," she repeats, looking stricken. Scared.

He supposed the way she'd grown up, it really was terrifying.

The way he'd grown up, well, you couldn't lose nothing you didn't have in the first place.

With a sigh, Deacon rises to his feet again and grabs a clean tshirt off the ones piled up in the laundry basket nearby. "Here, you can wear this one, bathroom is around the corner."

"Thanks."

She had been on private jets with bigger bathrooms, but she wouldn't complain.

When she comes out, the lights are out, except for the tiny 19 inch tv that sits on a wooden crate in the corner. So she climbs into his bed.

"Hey Deacon?" She says softly, her voice echoing out toward him from the shadows.

"Yeah?" He's laying there on the crappy-ass uncomfortable with his eyes closed, trying to get the picture out of his mind of her in that shirt, the legs that went on for days, the hair that brushed her shoulders. She has some legs, alright.

_God, you're an idiot,_ he thinks. _She's sixteen._

"Did you think I was…good?"

He laughs. Can't help it.

"Yeah," he says. "You were good."

He can't see it, but she smiles.

"Goodnight, Deacon."

"Night, Ray."

She likes the way that nickname rolls back to her in the dark. It sounds good. Right.

She lays her head on a pillow that smells like cigarettes and cologne.

And she sleeps.

##########################################

Rayna wakes in the morning to the smell of bacon and eggs.

"Wow, you cook?"

"Well, I have to if I want to feed myself," Deacon says, somewhat amused at this, and somewhat distracted by the fact that she's sitting at his tiny kitchen table in a shirt and bare legs.

Rayna has lived in a staffed mansion her whole life. She could probably boil water if she tried. But she'd never really tried.

He watches her as she eats.

It's unnerving, the way he's always watching.

"I called Watty," he says. "He's gonna come and get you."

She looks a little disappointed. "Okay."

"You can't stay here," he says. "You should probably be in school or….something."

Rayna gets a sour look on her face at that. "There's gotta be something else I can do, cuz I'd rather burn in hell than go back to school with that bunch of snobs."

She makes him laugh. "You're sure not like any rich princess I ever met."

Rayna doesn't like the sound of that too much. "Don't ever call me that. Princess. And how many have you met?"

"A hell of a lot, around here."

"Well that's not me," she says again, determined.

"I know," he says, unable to keep that feeling that was building in his gut again. Watching her as she sat at his table. In his place. In his shirt.

She looks so goddamn cute in that shirt, that he leaves his position leaning against the sink and grabs a notepad off the counter nearby.

"What are you doing?" She asks.

"Just gotta write something down that came to me."

Rayna's blue eyes light up. "Is it it a song? It is, isn't it? I do that. All the time. Isn't it funny how lyrics jut pop into your head like that."

He looks down at the paper in his hand and the words he'd just written.

_And maybe it's a little too early _

_ To know if this is gonna work _

_ All is know is you're sure looking _

_ Good in my shirt_

"Yeah," he says. "Something like that."

########################################

When Watty picks her up an hour later she is waiting near the curb outside. Her feet are bare, her white boots stacked neatly next to her mama's guitar case.

He lets her keep the shirt. It's the one with Merle Haggard on the front.

And It's his favorite but he won't tell her that.

"Thanks," she says. "For everything.

She goes to hug him, and it should be awkward, but it's really not. Somehow they fit together perfectly. She is tall even without her boots on, and somehow she fits right under his chin like she belongs there.

"Take care," he say gruffly. "And don't back down. You do that and you'll be fine."

"Right," she tries real hard to force a smile across her face.

Watty gets out of his car and leans against the hood. He watches them with raised eyebrows.

She is a little embarrassed, and backs away from Deacon quickly to collect her stuff and climb into Watty's car.

"It's there," Watty says to Deacon. "You and her."

"I gotta go to work," Deacon says, avoiding his eyes. "See you around, Watty."

Everybody knows Watty White. He is the stuff in this town legends are made of. If Watty thinks you've got it, you've probably got it.

"I know talent when I see it," Watty says mildly, leaning over to shove a card into his front shirt pocket. "I want you in my studio by the end of the week. She needs a guitar player, and you need a break, kid. Take it."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he says. "Me and her working together. She's too young."

_And too tempting. _

He doesn't do attachments of any kind, to people or places. There's a reason for that.

Watty just claps him on the shoulder, and then gets into his car and drives Rayna away.

###################################

A week later, Deacon unwillingly finds himself driving downtown to the studio address on the card in his hand.

He's been thinking about her way too much. Wondering how she's doing. Hoping she hadn't decided to give up after all and head back to the mansion.

Rayna is surprised and happy to see him walk in.

"What are you doing here?" She asks.

"Watty didn't tell you I was coming?"

She shakes her head. "He just told me he got me a permanent guitar player."

_Dammit,_ he thinks. _He's got me now._

"So….is that you?" She asks cautiously.

"I guess it is," he says with a smile that is a little bit forced.

Not because he doesn't want to play with her, and write with her, and sing with her.

Because he does.

A little too much.

"He taking care of you, then?"

"Yes," she says. "Got me all fixed up staying with him and his wife. Watty's gonna get me a tutor so I don't have to go back to school. This is it…what I wanted for forever. Just writing and playing all day every day. I wanna play at the Opry some day. My mama always wanted to do that."

She's wearing his shirt, he notices, his eyes traveling.

She looks a little embarrassed. "I washed it. Do you want it back?"

"Nah, it's yours."

Rayna feels it again, that tingling in her toes, the butterflies in her stomach.

She wonders if this is how it starts, if this feeling is the stuff that all these great songs get written about.

_You'll know,_ Tandy always tells her. _Don't worry about it so much. You'll just know. _

_If it stays, I'll know, _she thinks.

And it does. She can't see their future at that moment, but it exists. Through ups and downs, love and heartbreaks, and hurting each other, forgiving each other, and doing it all over again, and sometimes trying to put it in an invisible box and push it away…..

It's always there. And it always stays.


	2. Chapter 2

Rayna stares at her 19 yr old self in the cracked mirror that hangs on the wall in her tiny room on the back of the bus. For the first time, she wonders if she's cut out for this.

The last three years of her life have been a rollercoaster. Finishing school with a private tutor, playing every gig Watty could get her, even the ones that barely paid and were solely for the sake of publicity. She's come a long way, finding herself. It's not easy, but she sees it as her penance. She lived sixteen years of an easy life. To get somewhere on her own, she has to face the music. Literally. She likes being independent, making her own decisions. She is happy.

But right now the tears in her eyes are what is reflected back at her in the mirror.

She hates crying. It stuffs up her nose, and makes her eyes red, and makes her feel like a little girl.

Lamar says crying is a sign of weakness.

She hasn't seen her Daddy since the night he kicked her out of the house when she was sixteen, the night it all began. Tandy comes to shows whenever she can. She says he ain't budging. He wants her to go to college and work in the family business, and if she decides to do that, she can come home.

Well she ain't budging either, she tells Tandy every time. And why in the hell would she ever want to go home to that stuffy old mansion anyway. She's perfectly happy with the new apartment her and Deacon moved into last year in the better part of Nashville. It's not much, but it's theirs.

She closes her eyes so she doesn't have to look at how miserable she feels in that moment, but that just has her reliving the melee of the last hour all over again.

The Kentucky state fair show tonight was nothing but one giant-ass disaster.

Something was messed up with the soundboard, and she could hardly hear herself. Halfway through the second song, the entire stage lost power except for two lights over her head. She tried to hold the crowd on her own while the tech guys hurriedly tried to fix it but they were so riled up and half drunk already that they didn't care that it wasn't her fault.

_Someone throws a beer and it hit her in the knee, splashing everywhere. After that a whole bunch of crap lands on the stage at her feet. _

_ "Show me your boobs, that'll make up for it," some guy in the front row yells. _

_ "You suck. Get off the stage little girl and get a real artist up there." _

_ They started chanting for Cody Keeler, the drinking, cursing, cowboy-hat wearing headliner who is up next. _

_ Deacon stands behind her with his guitar looking like he wants to jump right off the stage and pound that guy into the floor. It wouldn't be the first time. Always her protector, even when she staunchly states she doesn't need one. She shakes her head slightly to ward him off before hell really breaks loose. _

_ Deacon hadn't thought it was even a good idea for her to open for Keeler in the first place. It was Bucky's idea, this new manager Watty has stuck her with. _

_ Rayna picks the cup off of the stage and tosses it back toward the crowd. _

_ "If you wanted to buy me a beer, you coulda just said so," she tries to lighten the raucous crowd. A titter of laughter goes out among them, the soundboard lights up again, and things turn better. _

_ It is still the longest 30 minutes of her life, but she sticks it out. _

_ When the lights finally go down, she finds the promoter and demands to know what the hell went wrong with the electrical circuit. He tells her exactly what he thinks of her diva attitude, and she tells him in no uncertain terms to find someone else for the last show tomorrow night if it isn't fixed. _

_ She's shaking by the time she retreats to the bus, trying to act like she's the one running her show. Watty tells her this all the time, she needs to be a little more demanding or they're gonna see her pretty face and walk all over it. _

_Deacon is the one that finds her. He always finds her when no one else can. _

#################################

Rayna feels the hand on her shoulder before she sees him in the reflection of the mirror behind her.

"Proud of you."

"They hated me," she says, with a hitch in her voice.

"But you coulda walked off the stage and given up," he says. "And you didn't."

He hates seeing the tears in her eyes. If he's learned anything about Rayna in the last few years, it's that she's not a quitter. She's tough as nails, and she can take a hell of a lot. But when she can't take it, she sure doesn't want anyone to know it. But she lets him see. He is the only one she lets her guard down around.

Sometimes he secretly revels in this a little, that these parts of her are only for him. She _is_ his, just like he is hers.

"They don't hate you, darlin," he says. "They don't even know you. This is a drunk cowboy crowd. This ain't a Rayna Jaymes crowd."

She laughs in spite of herself. "I don't even have a Rayna Jaymes crowd."

"Well some day you will."

"Maybe my father was right. Maybe I don't have what it takes."

"Don't you ever say that." Deacon says, sliding his arms around her waist from behind and pulling her in close to kiss her cheek. "Cuz you know it ain't true. That would be letting em all win. Look at that girl in the mirror there. You see that? I wanna see her pretty smile."

She forces it for him, but the corners of her mouth pull up for real, and his face next to hers crinkles into his own grin. She likes the way they look together in that mirror.

Deacon always keeps her going. He knows her, sees things about her nobody else can.

He gets her.

She smiles at his reflection. "You know I fell in love with you about 10 minutes after I met you."

Love is a not a new word between them, and it shows up often. It's in the songs they write. It's in the red guitar picks with the ILY written on the back she leaves in his shirt pockets for him to find. It's in the bed they share in their apartment, the one they have together back at home in Nashville but rarely see lately. It _is_ them.

She's never felt it before him, but she sure as hell knows what it feels like now.

"Ten minutes, huh?" He kisses her neck. "I thought it was more like five."

"Well, I couldn't make it _that _easy," she teases softly. "Besides, it took you half a year to even kiss me. I was so damn jealous watching groupies hang all over you all the time. I was starting to think you were scared of me."

"I wasn't scared of you," he laughs. "I was scared of Watty's wife. That woman still gives me the evil eye every time I see her."

But it's different now. She's not sixteen anymore. She's 19, and he's headed for 23.

He's not one who ever gives a damn what people think, but her he worries about; her quickly rising career, and what people will say about them being together.

_You need to find someone better than me,_ he says all the time. _I come from nothing, Ray. _

She gets mad when he talks like that. _I don't want anyone better than you. _

Watty isn't the only one who has taken notice that they're a good kind of magic together. Everybody sees it. The music just flows out of the two of them, like they're one and the same, but it's not just the music, it's everything else that comes with it that makes the music better. It's been that way since the beginning. Rayna feels like it will be that way forever. She can't imagine ever loving anyone else. She can't imagine ever having anyone else on the stage with her. It is perfection.

Tandy always gives her that Look when she says she loves him.

_Think what you want, Tandy, but I swear I'm gonna love that man for the rest of my life. _

Rayna looks at their reflections once more and sighs. "It can't really get much worse than tonight, though, right? If I survived that, I can make it through anything."

She slumps on the edge of the bed. Things really _are_ going good now. Finally. Watty got her on this Keeler summer tour opening at fairs all over the country. It's something more than just the free beer tent for once. Her name is getting out there, and her songs are getting heard. They've even got this nice big old tour bus now, instead of hauling everything around in whoever's piece of crap vehicle it would fit in. Another courtesy of Watty. He was taking her places. In some ways he was more like a father figure to her than Lamar ever had been. He's working on a record deal for her. She'll do whatever he thinks is right, she says, as long as she can have Deacon onstage next to her.

Deacon sits down on the bed next to her, and pulls her against him. They fall backwards onto the pillows, her head on his chest. "Just a bump in the road, Baby," he says. "You're getting there."

"Thanks," she says softly. "Why do you even put up with me? I mean, am I turning into a diva?"

His face lights up in a half grin. "Well, maybe just a little."

She smacks his chest.

Truth was, He had been a sucker for Rayna since the first time he laid eyes on her, for her blue eyes and her sweet voice. For everything about her, the way she sings, the way she fits so perfectly next to him whether they're laying on the couch at home together or crammed into this damn tiny bed on the bus, the way her arms go around his neck, the way she presses her lips to his and makes every worry in the world melt away.

Trying to stay away from her was pointless. He'd found that out after the first time they played together at the Bluebird three years ago.

Loving her was much, much easier.

He reaches over and turns off the light switch, and closes his eyes as she snuggles in closer against him. They lay there in the dark, drifting off in each other's arms.

Tomorrow is another day, and the disaster of tonight will be forgotten.

"You think it'll always be like this?" She murmurs. "Us, I mean?"

"I sure as hell hope not. I don't plan on living on this bus when I'm 70."

"Deacon…" she sighs. "That's not what I meant."

But he can feel her smile in the dark.

"Pretty soon you'll be a big-ass star, and you'll have everything you gave up, Ray. You won't even need a crappy old bus, private planes and limos will do just fine."

"Babe, you know I don't need any of that stuff," she says quietly. "I'd be happy just with a little house on a lake somewhere, just you and me sitting on the porch writing songs and getting old."

"You deserve that stuff," he says softly, tightening his arm around her a little. "But you and me? Yeah. It'll always be this way. No one will ever love you like I do, Ray."

They don't know it in that moment in the dark, but in a year she will be riding hiding on the success of her first album. In a year he will already be heading into the downward spiral that carries them away from each other. The road will carry them farther apart than they ever imagined before it brings them back together. Years later, a Rolling Stone reporter will describe it better than anyone else ever has when he says _there is a pull between them, a mixture of music and love all tangled up into something so tangible you can feel it when you as much as stand in the same room. It is undeniable. _

That's the way it's always been. And that is the way it always will be.


	3. Chapter 3

Rayna stares at her reflection in the lit up dressing room mirror. She is 23 years old, but she feels a lifetime older. The last year has taken its toll. She is ready to go onstage. All the hair and makeup people have done their jobs, her wardrobe person has chosen the fabulous white dress she is wearing directly from a Paris runway, everything is perfect. She will sparkle on that stage.

Her second album just hit the airwaves and it has hit the top of the charts already, climbing at record speed. Sometimes in the gossip columns now they call her a diva. She doesn't see herself as a diva. She knows what she wants and she's not afraid to ask for it. "And there ain't nothing wrong with that," Deacon says often.

But all she really wants right now is him.  
>She has to learn to be onstage without him, her sister says. Her life will go on. But not really. Tandy doesn't understand that her life <em>is<em> going on around her, but she feels like she's motionlessly watching it fly by. She doesn't want her life to go on without him next to her, so she's watching it go by, waiting for him to catch up. She needs to stop doing that, she knows it. She's successful. She needs to enjoy it a little more.

She does enjoy it. The magazines, the press conferences, the radio interviews... it's a thrill, being #1, but it's all a little overwhelming. Sometimes she longs for the days when it was just the two of them writing songs in a tiny apartment, him sprawled out on the sofa and her sitting on the arm of couch with her feet on the bed.

It's a huge night, her debut at the Opry. It mean she really _has _made it. This is a lifelong dream, to stand up there on that circle and make her mama in heaven proud. But it's subdued by the fact that he isn't here. He's at a rehab facility on the other side of town, probably getting the shakes from withdrawal symptoms. He's been there for 7 days. He _needs _to be there, she knows that too. It's a relief in some ways. The last year she has watched him go downhill so fast it is terrifying. Since Vince died it is worse, and she knows he is trying to cope with that and with other things he refused to talk about, like his dead mother or his rotten childhood. He might not talk about it, but it comes out in his music. His songs come from pain, and loss, and things she tries like hell to understand about him.

_Can't you ever write a happy song? _She asks him more than once.

_ I don't do happy. _

She wants so badly for him to be here. Giving him that ultimatum a week ago had been one of the hardest things she's ever done in her life.

_ Watty had set it all up for him to go, but he resisted right until the last second, until she was practically pushing him through the door of the rehab center. _

_ Rayna didn't cry. She kept her chin up, and said straight out "Deacon, you need to go in. Or we're done". _

_ "You don't mean that, Baby. I'm sorry. I can do better. I can do it on my own, I swear." _

_ "You can't," she said sadly. "I've seen you try." _

_ When she had caught him mixing painkillers with his booze a few nights ago, that was the last straw. She knew they had a problem. She just didn't know what to do about it. _

_ "Promise me you'll be here?" Deacon whispered, raising her hand to his mouth and kissing her palm. "When I get out?" _

_ "I promise." _

_ With a shaky sigh, he turned away from her and walked into the building. _

_ She had never been more prouder and more heartbroken at the same time. _

When the show is done she will go home to the empty house they've bought together in east Nashville, kick off her high heels and scrub off the makeup, the hairspray, the glitter and trade them in for a tshirt so worn that Merle Haggard's face is no longer visible. She will hope sometime this week when he was feeling alone he found the red guitar pick she stuck in his wallet. She will crawl into their bed alone.

Tonight will be the first time in her career he's not on the stage behind her. Sure, Pete plays almost as good, but he's not Deacon.

It all feels so wrong.

She can't pinpoint the exact moment that it all went wrong. It was never a moment, just….circumstances. Like when he took her home to Mississippi a few years ago. Deacon didn't want to go, she could see that, but he wanted to see his new baby niece more and check on his sister. They went to see Beverly where she was living in a rundown trailer with her husband and her new baby. The husband was nowhere in sight, and to be honest, Rayna didn't think Beverly looked all that stable even back then, in the middle of that mess with that tiny baby.

_"Good now that you're here, I need a shower," Beverly says. She hands the swaddled baby Scarlett to Deacon like it is a sack of hot potatoes, and heads for the bathroom. _

_ Rayna expects him to be awkward, but he's not, cradling his niece in the crook of his arm, and pushing a bunch of clothes off the sofa to sit down. _

_ "She's so cute," Rayna says, peering over his shoulder to see the baby, who stares up at him with tiny inquisitive eyes. "Maybe we'll have a little one like that some day." _

_ Deacon's smile fades. "Not me. No way. I'm not cut out to be anyone's dad." _

_ "Oh, you'll be fine," she says. "Look how good you are with her." _

_ "No-" he cuts her off. "I don't plan on having kids, Rayna. Ever." _

_She'll change his mind some day, she thinks. They have lots of time to worry about that later. _

_ Beverly cries when Deacon says it's a long drive and they need to go. "Maybe I could come with you," she suggests. _

_ Rayna silently blanches but says nothing. She can see the torn look in Deacon's eyes. He loves his sister, but Beverly is a handful. Emotional, post-partum Beverly with a baby might be more than either of them can take. _

_ "We have to go, Bev," he says. "But listen, I'm gonna call around okay? I'll hire someone to come over here and help you out." He can afford to do that now. Rayna's success has been his success too. _

_ Beverly looks immensely relieved, and Deacon sticks a wad of cash in his sister's hand when Rayna's back is turned. _

_ Rayna hides a smile and pretends she didn't see that. _

_ Deacon always takes care of his own. _

_ After they leave Beverly in the midst of that disaster and escape out the door. _

_ The trailer sits on a small piece of property with a thick woods running behind it. There is a dilapidated two story house 20 yards away, but it is completely dark, devoid of life. Even in the fading light of the day she can see its rundown, about 25 years past needing a paint job. Some of the windows are busted out, and a rusty broken bicycle that looks like it might have been run over years ago lays next to the front steps. The garage door is off its hinges, and next to it sits an empty dog kennel. _

_ "Whose house is that?" She asks. "Who lives there? I mean, that's a good sized house, why don't Beverly and the baby move in there? We could fix it up if she needs help."_

_ Deacon's mouth sets itself in a hard line. "Nobody lives there." He says. "Cmon. Let's go." _

_ She glances one more time at that broken blue bicycle and empty kennel, and her heart starts to hurt. _

_ "I had a dog when I was a kid," he says abruptly. "For awhile." _

_ "What happened to him?" _

_ He doesn't answer for a long time. _

_ "Just came home one day and he was gone," he says finally. _

_ She locks that piece of information away, and realizes this year when they watch Old Yeller on his birthday, he won't be the only one bawling like a damn baby. _

_ "Hey," she says softly, reaching out to touch his arm. 'You okay?" _

_ He flinches. It all comes back, standing there. All the things he's spent 10 years trying to put behind him. The woods where as a kid he sometimes sat in the highest tree til long after the sun went down. The house where he watched his father literally choke the life out of his mother until she never breathed again. _

_ "I'm fine," he says in a low voice. "Let's get the hell out of here." _

_ As they get into the truck and drive away, she notices not once does he look back. _

_ They stop and see Vince, who is hanging out at the local pub before they head for home. Vince is Deacon's oldest friend, more like a brother. They grew up together in this dust bowl crappy town, and both swore they were gonna get out. Somehow Deacon did and Vince is still hanging around. _

_ Rayna hangs back and watches the two of them downing beers at the bar rail. The incidents of earlier in the day seem to be forgotten. He seems happy. _

_ When Deacon heads for the bathroom, she corners Vince. _

_ "What happened in that house?" _

_ Vince shakes his head and takes another swig of his beer. "He'll kill me for telling you." _

_ "I want to be able to help him, Vince. And I can't." _

_ "Why?" _

_ "Because I love him," she says simply. "Isn't that enough?" _

_ Vince sighs. "It was bad, Rayna. Real bad. My childhood wasn't that great either but at least my old man didn't beat the shit out of my whole family on a daily basis. You wanna know why Beverly's batshit crazy and Deacon drinks? That's why. He never cried, you know. I think it just pissed Sam off more. In middle school his dad busted his hand for taking cash out of the cookie jar for lunch money. He just wrapped it up and told everyone he fell off his bike, but we knew. Funny thing is, Deacon swears he played guitar better than ever after that, because it healed wrong. My ma tried to help Caroline out lots of times, but they had their pride, you know?" _

_ She swallows back the sick feeling rising in her throat. "What happened?" _

_ "He broke her neck or choked her to death, I don't know but either way she ended up dead. He was 16."_

_ Deacon comes out of the bathroom then, and sees the look on Rayna's face. _

_ "Dammit," he says, shoving Vince angrily. "Can't you stay out of it?" _

_ "Deacon," she says quietly, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. "It's okay." _

_ "Come on, let's go." He shakes her off and stalks towards the door. _

_ Vince looks at her helplessly as she goes after him. "Take care of him." _

_ "I will. Come and see us. Any time, you're always welcome." _

_ Deacon doesn't say a word the entire ride back to Nashville, just staring out the window and writing on a pad of paper. _

_ "You okay?" She asks as they pull into the driveway of their house. They bought this house last year when he cut his solo album and she got the gig opening for George Strait. She loves it. It is cozy, all stone and beautiful woodwork and so perfectly them. _

_ "I'm fine," he says, reaching for her hand. "Sorry for flying off the handle like that before." _

_ "You can tell me things, you know," she says softly. "I don't care how you grew up, Deacon. I love you." _

_ "Love you too." He leans over to console to kiss her hard. "Go on in, I know you're tired. I'm gonna take a walk." _

_ He walks to the liquor store down the street and buys a bottle of whiskey. _

_ When Rayna wakes in the morning, he has never made it to their bed. He is shirtless and passed out face down on the sofa with an empty bottle on the floor next to him. This is how Deacon copes, she has started to realize more and more lately. He doesn't do it on purpose. She knows that. He's not like some drunk guys who would beat the tar out of their woman. _

_ He drinks to make the pain go away. _

_ And now she knows why. _

_ She sits next to him and traces the scattering of thin white scars and faded white circles across his back. Barely visible, unless you were close enough to know to look for them. _

_ Things belts and cigarettes did. _

_ She picks up the notepad and read the words to the song he had been writing on the way home yesterday. _

_**When everything you love starts to disappear,**_

_** Devil takes your hand and says no fear. **_

_** Have another shot, just one more beer. **_

_** I've been there. **_

_** That's why I'm here **_

_ Her heart breaks a little more as she stares at his passed out figure. _

"Hey," Her manager Bucky comes into the room now. "You're up next. You ready?"

"Yes," she says firmly. "I'm ready."

She pushes away the memories and heads for the door to do what she was born to do: stand on that stage and win em over.

#################################

Rayna returns to her dressing room after the show an hour later, fully reenergized…..and shocked to find Deacon there, leaning against the wall waiting for her to return.

His eyes are clear. _Maybe it worked_, she thinks. She hopes against hope for both of them it worked, but she knows in her heart it probably didn't. It's only been a week. How can 7 days undo a lifetime of suffering?

"What are you doing here?" She blurts out. "I mean…."

"I checked myself out." Deacon says. "I couldn't miss it, Ray. It was your big moment. You gave it hell out there. Proud of you." He won't tell her he has already made a stop on the way to the show. There is a bottle hidden under his front seat. Just in case he can't sleep, he tells himself. Just in case.

Rayna is rather at a loss for what to say or do, but he opens his arms and she is in them instantly. Suddenly everything is right with the world again.

_He'll get the help he needs, _she thinks. _I'll make sure of it._ _Even if I have to drag him back in there 20 times. _

"I'm glad you're here," she admits. "It didn't see right to be doing this without you."

She wouldn't be half of who she was without Deacon, and they all know it. She has the talent, but he brings the music out of her like nobody else.

"That was the longest damn week of my life, he grumbles.

"Mine too," she sighs.

He pulls her in close and kisses her until her knees melt, and for the first time in a long time, she notices the taste of whiskey doesn't linger on his breath. It is a relief.

It doesn't always work the first time, Watty says.

But she wants to believe it will. She loves him enough that it will. And he loves her. Love will be strong enough to fix this.

She wishes she could take it all away from him.

She wishes she could love him hard enough to take his pain away.

But she can't see the next four years.

She can't see how a week from now she will sit next to a hospital bed and hold his hand while they pump five days' worth of booze and pills out of his stomach.

She can't see that a year from now, she will leave on her first headlining tour and play the first 20 shows without him, because he is in court appointed rehab after rolling his truck, an incident he doesn't even remember.

She can't see that a plus sign on a stick four years from now will give her a strength she never knew she had- the strength to walk away. She will send him into a rehab center for the fifth and last time. It will work that time, but she won't be waiting, because she will be someone's wife, and someone's mother.

Right now she can't see any of that. All she can see is that he's still there, in his eyes is still the man she fell in love with ten minutes after she met him, and she will hold onto that thought and that hope through the best and worst of all of it. She will always hold onto that thought.

_"What would you change?"_ He will ask her years later. "_If you could go back?" _

"_Nothing,"_ she will say. "_Everything."_

_"That makes two of us." _

And some day it will make three.

##################

*The song lyrics are from Kenny Chesney "I've Been There".

find me on twitter bosswoman88 amygeurden


	4. Chapter 4

Rayna had always imagined her wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. She stares at her reflection in the three-sided mirror as Tandy fusses with the train on the back of her dress.

_So much white,_ she thinks. _It shows everything_. Who in the hell's idea was it that you had to get married in white anyway? She feels more like she should be wearing black. 

It definitely feels more like a damn funeral.

_This is ridiculous_, she thinks. _I'm 27 years old._ _Seems a little old for a shotgun wedding. _

For a split second, she eyes up the door across the room. She knows it leads down the back hallway and to the stairs. Escape is still a very real possibility.

There's 500 people waiting outside of this room, squeezed into the church pews to capture the magic of Lamar Wyatt's daughter getting married to the mayor's son, Teddy Conrad. This is supposed to be the fanciest, most exorbitant wedding Nashville has ever seen. 

"There," Tandy says, satisfied, giving her one last pat. "You look beautiful."

Tandy is wearing a bridesmaid dress the color of beach sand, and standing up as her maid of honor.

"You could at least _try _to look happy," Tandy says softly.

The person staring back at her from three different directions does not look happy. Beautiful, but not happy.

She's not wearing the stage face right now, but it'll be on shortly.

She's gotten pretty good at that face, over the last 11 years. Smile and wave, even when you gotta grit your teeth and bite your tongue and bless every heart from here to Kentucky. She knows how to pull one over on a crowd.

Rayna forces a smile onto her face. "There. Are you happy?"

Tandy kisses her cheek. "That's better. You'll be fine, sweetheart. Teddy is a good man. He'll be a good husband and a good daddy. He'll take care of you. Both of you."

"I thought I was doing just fine taking care of myself, thank you very much. Four platinum records and 6 CMA nominations says it all."

"Honey, you know what I mean. This is the right thing to do."

Rayna sighs and turns back to the mirror. But she doesn't like this reflection with the pasted on smile either. It feels like nothing but lies. Sadness.

"At least Daddy will be happy," she mutters.

She and Lamar have tried to mended fences over the last couple years, but it is touch and go. Tandy constantly finds herself in the middle of the two of them. They are too much alike, Rayna realizes. That's the biggest part of the problem. Stubbornness always prevails when it comes to Wyatts.

She turns to look at herself from the side and sucks in a breath. "Ugh. Do you think anyone will guess?"

"It's not even noticeable yet," Tandy comforts. "And you'll be holding your flowers anyway."

She is four months pregnant. She knows. She knows the exact date and time and place it happened.

"I could do this on my own, you know." Rayna says abruptly. "I'd be fine. Hell, I made it this far on my own, didn't I?"

Tandy gives her a stern look.

Rayna has agreed with Teddy to do a paternity test after the baby was born. He says he doesn't care. She tries to reassure him every day that there's a good chance it could still be his, but it's pointless and they both know it.

They both know this baby inside her growing bigger by the day is Deacon's.

She misses him, cries herself to sleep every night. He is supposed to be at the end of that aisle waiting for her, and today she will trade in that dream for a life with someone else.

Sometimes she thinks she would rather take the career suicide as a single mother than marry Teddy. She'd rather take her baby somewhere away in some quiet town, change her name, and live forever. But that will never do. She's being labeled the next Queen of Country right now. Her success is as its highest point ever. And her baby needs a daddy who she knows is going to be there.

Teddy says he will love it no matter what. They are making a vow today: to do what's best for this child.

She's been trying real hard to convince herself she loves Teddy. And she does, in a way. She loves what he's willing to do for her. And she knows he does love her. He's been dazzled by her since the day Tandy introduced them five months ago. He treats her amazing, and he is educated, handsome, and successful.

He's a good man, Tandy says all the time. He's a good provider and he will be a great father.

He's not a drunk.

Her mind wanders back to Deacon, where it has been most of the day anyway.

Coleman called her awhile ago to let her know he's back in now. Six months, this time. It's six months in rehab or six months in jail for another DUI. She wants to believe he just hasn't found the right place or the right program yet. She wants to believe one of these times it's gonna work. When it was just her, she could tell herself to hold onto the hope that he would some day get better. But it's not just her anymore. She has a baby coming to worry about. It gets harder every time to watch him walk in there and wonder if he will come out alive. Four times she had watched him walk through those doors. The fifth time, she wasn't there.

Still, she wants to tell him so badly. Even if she still marries Teddy, she argues with Tandy, he should know. He has a right to know. He has a right to decide if he wants to be involved.

Besides, she thinks, maybe it could be a good thing. Maybe it would be a reason for him to stay sober.

They all tell her no. Even Coleman tells her no. She needs to let go of him, he says. He can't get sober for anyone else, he needs to do it for himself, and he needs to do it on his own. Without her.

"Come on," Tandy picks up her bouquet off the table. "Let's go get you married."

Tandy has been tailing her all week, determined not to let her out of her sight until the ink on that marriage license was dry lest she decide to do something…impulsive.

"Tandy," Rayna says, her face turning pale. "I think I'm gonna throw up."

##############################

Deacon has been in here for a month. Longest damn month of his life. As if detox wasn't hell enough, it was a month before they let you have your own stuff, and stopped watching you like you might take a belt and hang yourself in the closet just to escape. He felt more like some damn kid who got punished for skipping school than a 30 yr old man with a booze problem. He hates it…..at first. But it's working. It hasn't worked four other times, but this time it's working. The program is different. He feels less like a failure and more like a person of circumstance. That's what they tell you, when they make you talk about stuff you never intend to bring up again. That you're a person of your circumstances.

They don't give you newspapers here, don't even let you watch tv or listen to the radio for the first entire month. He guesses it's a distraction. He'd welcome a distraction. Way too much time to be thinkin about things he shouldn't be thinking about. Like Rayna.

Coleman visits him after that first month. He brings him his clothes, his Martin and his pillow.

Cole has designated himself as his official sponsor. He didn't like the idea of needing a babysitter, but he likes Cole. The guy doesn't mince words, and knows how to tell it like it is, that's for sure.

"_Your pillow?"_ Coleman asks when he calls. "_Hell man, I bet they got a million pillows in there, why you need some old flat thing from home?" _

"_Just bring me the damn pillow."_

Cole sits across from him at the table in the cafeteria. "You look good."

"I look like shit," he says dryly. Withdrawal would do that to a guy. The first week was always hell, but he found if he got past that, it got a little easier every day.

"Well, I was trying to be nice about it."

Awkward silence. Deacon can tell there's something he's holding back.

"Alright, spit it out. Why the hell you got that look on your face like someone died?" he demands.

Cole hesitates, but slides a newspaper across the table. "I figured I just want…you know…to make sure you don't find out from anyone else."

Deacon stares at the headline… _Queen of Country becomes Mrs. Teddy Conrad. _It was dated a week ago.

It was the ultimate punch in the stomach.

This time, when he got out she wouldn't be waiting there in the sun leaning against her silver sports car, looking so hopeful that he was finally gonna stay sober this time. This time he didn't have those arms waiting for him.

He swallowed hard, and slowly pushed the paper back towards Cole and stood up from the table.

"Thanks for bringing my stuff. I'm gonna go back to my room now."

"You okay?"

He'd never be okay. Nothing was ever going to be right again.

The guitar soothes him, like it always does. This is exactly what he needs. He writes until they come and bang on the door and remind him there's a "curfew". _Just like a damn kid_, he thinks. He looks down at the notebook in his hand, satisfied with the lyrics there. Another song about her. They are all about her, and always will be.

**There's a man with a bottle on the other side of town **

** Swimming with a memory that he can't drown **

**It ain't sunk in that she ain't comin home **

** A man holding on to a woman letting go**

**His heart is telling him to hang on for dear life **

** Cause deep down he knows **

** She's letting go for good this time**

That night, when Deacon sleeps, he sleeps facedown in the pillow. Because it smells like her hair and her fancy shampoo, the stuff that smelled like wildflowers and he always complained about. He'd give anything to take it all back, go back and do it all over again. But it's too late now.

Because this time, she didn't wait.

** ############################### **

**8 months later…. **

Rayna checks her reflection in her rear-view mirror, reapplying her lipstick, wiping a slight smudge from her eyeshadow.

She is uncharacteristically nervous, and it shows.

"Why am I worrying about my face," she says aloud. "Jeez. It's just Deacon."

"Just" Deacon. Who she has not seen in almost a year.

From the car seat behind her, the baby squeals, reminding her.

Deacon. Who does not know three months ago she'd given birth to his daughter and put another man's name in the space that said "father." The guilt is almost overwhelming. She wonders if that will ever go away.

"Alright, Miss Maddie," she says, flipping the visor closed. "Let's get this over with."

This meeting had been her idea. Teddy was completely against it. It was the first real fight they'd had in their marriage.

_"You promised me, Rayna. On the day she was born. My name is on her birth certificate. That makes me her father." _

_ "I know that." She said. "This isn't for her, it's for me."_

_Teddy's eyes darkened. _

_ "My god, Teddy," she exclaimed, insulted. "I meant professionally. I married you, didn't I? I'd never do that." _

They fought about it for three days before Teddy realized it was one battle he wasn't going to win, and watched Rayna dial Bucky's number to have him set it up the meeting.

Now once again as she gathers the baby bag and snaps Maddie's infant seat into her stroller, she tries to convince herself this is business only.

Just the fact that Deacon has even agreed to it is a good thing.

Truth is, she needs him. She keeps trying to convince herself it was the new baby, being stressed and not sleeping enough, but her music is dragging. The fire that she's always had is not there. She's leaving on a huge year-long tour in just a few months and she needed to get the magic back. Fast. Or her career was going to be sliding straight off a cliff. She knew she should have been back in rehearsals, and in the studio a month ago already, but she was putting it off.

She definitely needs him.

She walks into the big room, stopping for all the people who stop to peer at the baby in her stroller/carseat thing. Maddie is all cute-baby smiles and drool and big brown eyes, enchanting everyone who gets a glimpse at her.

Deacon has beaten her there, talking with Bucky, joking around with the other guys in the band.

"Hey," she says, forcing a smile as he approaches.

"Hey," he says easily, pointing to the stroller. "Uh…congratulations."

It had almost killed him, when he got out of the program a few months ago and that next bomb dropped. Sitting in his truck and hearing it on the damn radio. _Congratulations to our own Queen of Country Rayna Jaymes. Word is she delivered a little princess last_ _night_. _Guess we all know_ _why she's been MIA the last few months._

The woman he loved now had a baby with another man. It didn't matter how much he loved her, or that his sole meaning of busting his ass to stay sober had revolved around her. It didn't matter how many songs he wrote about getting her back. It was really and truly over. She belonged to someone else now.

He had sat in a bar for two hours staring at the same shot of whiskey before sliding it back to the bartender and calling Cole. That was a small battle, but it was one he won.

"Thanks," she says quietly. "You look good."

"You too."

He seems different, Rayna realizes as they stand there awkwardly and make small talk. It is about as awkward as two people who once couldn't keep their hands off each other can get, but it's a relief too. _We can do this_, she thinks. She realizes it's his eyes that are different. Some of the darkness is gone now. He seems mellower, at ease, comfortable with himself.

It strikes her, so hard she can hardly breath. She always wondered how she'd know, and it was clear now.

The rehab really had worked this time. That's why he is different. He is sober, and she has no doubt he's going to stay that way this time.

The wound inside of her that will always bleed a little for him suddenly feels like it was ripped wide open. She looks down at the ring on her finger, which suddenly feels so heavy. And the baby in front of her. And she wonders what the hell she's done.

She thinks of another ring, hidden safely at home. The one he'd slipped on her finger that night at the cabin. The one she had thrown at his feet the next morning before she drove away.

_What the hell was I thinking? How could I ever have lost faith in him? _

Deacon talks first as they sit down across from each other at the table.

"So Bucky says you wanted to talk to me about something."

It takes her a minute to get her bearings back.

"I want you to come back and play for me," she says. "And write with me."

He hesitates. "I'm not really sure that's a good idea."

"It's probably a terrible idea_," _she admits with a smile_. _

It gets a laugh out of him, and the ice is broken.

"We're going back on tour in three months," Rayna forges ahead. "I need some new songs. I need to get back in the groove and I can't seem to do that. I can't write worth a damn."

"And you need me to do that with you?"

"Yes." She says firmly. "But uh there has to be….you know…boundaries and all."

He smirks a little, and raises his eyebrows. "I guess no more writing in bed then, huh?"

She flushes, but then realizes he's teasing her. She reaches over and slaps his knee. "Glad to see you haven't stopped being a smart-ass."

Deacon should say no, he knows this. Rayna is a more powerful addiction than all the booze and pills in the world combined, and now she's married to someone else.

300 days now, he's been sober. He's doing good. Being around her, there was a good chance of turning that applecart right over, and he was damned determined not to.

"Okay," he says. "Let's do it."

Her face breaks into a smile. "Okay."

The baby squawks and Rayna pulls the blanket off of her and unstraps her from the seat. She can see by the look on his face that he doesn't want to do it. He doesn't want to look at that baby that is supposed to be half her and half Teddy. But he does anyway, leaning over her to peer at the little thing against her shoulder with her fist jammed in her mouth.

She sees the muscle in his jaw move, and then a half smile crosses his face. "She's beautiful, Ray. What's her name?"

"Madeline," she says softly. "Madeline Rae. We call her Maddie."

The words come out of her mouth before she can stop them. "Do you want to hold her?"

"No," he says quickly. "I might drop her or somethin."

"Listen," she said softly. Her heart hurts. Because she can lie to him, but she can't lie to herself. This isn't just business. This is for her daughter too. Maybe a way for Deacon to be in her life after all. "She's gonna have two parents determined to keep her in line. She might need a really cool uncle to let her break the rules once in awhile. You up for that job?"

His eyes say that he's hurting, but reluctantly he takes the baby from her and tucks her into the crook of his arm. "Guess if we're gonna be on tour together, might as well get used to the idea, huh?"

Rayna watches him hold the daughter he doesn't know is his, and the guilt is almost too much to bear, but she forces it away. She promised Teddy, and she'd do anything to protect her little girl. Teddy was there when Maddie came into the world, and he already loves her like she is his own. There is no undoing that, no matter how much it hurts.

Deacon stares down at the baby, little eyes peering up at him solemnly. "That means I get to buy her first guitar, right?"

Rayna forces back the tears that burn underneath her eyelids, and laughs quietly. "Yeah, I guess it does."

They can't see the future, how Deacon will find himself not only buying that little girl her first guitar but teaching her to play it. He can't see how being on tour with Rayna will let him get to see Maddie take her first steps and hear her first words, how he will spend nights he used to spend on a tour bus getting wasted instead singing songs about princesses to sing her to sleep. He can't see in that moment that this little baby will some day stand on his porch as a 13 year old and change everything he ever thought about himself, and everything he ever wanted. He can't see any of that.

But for now, Uncle Deacon sounds pretty damn good.


	5. Chapter 5

Rayna sits at the vanity in her room and hurriedly finishes her makeup. The party starts in an hour. Two other faces appear in the mirror below hers. Maddie, who is six, is trying valiantly to pick her 2 year old sister up around the waist so Daphne can see her reflection in the mirror too.

She smiles, suddenly not caring one bit if she's late for the party. This is her life. She's not just the queen of country. She's a wife. She's a mama. Her two bright-eyed girls are the reason for everything. All the CMAs and hit records in the world can't compare to the feeling of waking up to them every morning and hearing their I love you's, hearing their tiny footsteps in the hall.

Last week was her 35th birthday. She doesn't know how that crept up so fast. Seems like just yesterday she was 16 years old, sneaking out of the house to go to the Bluebird. That night had changed everything.

_Time gets away so fast_, she thinks, feeling melancholy. It seems like these two little sweethearts will be all grown up in the blink of an eye.

"Can I put on your lipstick, Mama?" Maddie asks, releasing her squirming sister.

"Just a lil bit," Rayna says with a smile. "Pucker up."

Maddie smacks her lips together. "Daphne too!"

Little Daphne on her stubby legs is not so good at standing still for the pucker, but they manage.

"Blush!" Maddie demands.

Rayna takes the big brush and swipes it lightly over both of their faces, and they erupt in giggles.

"Mama, that tickles!"

She loves this game they play, and the bittersweet memories it brings of being the same age and doing these things with her own mother.

"Run along, now and tell Daddy I'm almost ready," she says, laughing.

Maddie takes Daphne by the hand and pats her back gently.

_Such a good big sister she is_, Rayna thinks affectionately. Not an ounce of jealousy from that one ever. It reminds her of her and Tandy. Sisters need each other. This was precisely what had triggered her entire decision for Maddie to have a sibling.

"You going to a party, Momma?"

"Yep. Aunt Tandy will be here shortly to stay with you."

"Is Uncle Deacon gonna be there?"

"Of course, silly."

Maddie's face brightens. "I wanna go too. Can I go, Mama, please? I made up a song on my 'tar and I wanna sing it to him."

"Not tonight, my sweetheart. But you'll see him this week, I promise. We have rehearsals for the tour."

She looks so disappointed.

Maddie loves Deacon. He is the cool uncle, the one who teases her and slips dollars into her pocket and sneaks her candy when Rayna brings them to rehearsal. He is the one who gave Maddie a pink guitar for her birthday a few months ago. It's been sleeping next to her every night, much to Teddy's annoyance. Teddy tries to steer Maddie towards other activities, gymnastics, dance class, but Maddie has the music bug already. And it's to be expected. She spent most of the first four years of her life on tour with them until Daphne came along and Rayna agreed that there would be a break from out of state shows for a few years.

But now she's leaving in a couple weeks for a 5 month tour, and leaving the girls behind with Teddy. The thought of leaving them behind is killing her, but Maddie is in school now and she knows it is best for them to be here. Teddy appears in the mirror behind his three girls, finishing up tying his tie.

"Look at you, handsome," Rayna teases.

"You should talk," he leans over and kisses the top of her head. "You're as beautiful as the day I met you," he says. "Don't ever change."

He looks happy, and it is a relief to her. Ever since his real estate business folded, he rarely seems to smile.

"What about us?" Maddie demands.

"You too," Teddy reaches down and scoops a little girl up on each arm. "Why don't we let mama finish getting ready and go find some pjs before Aunt Tandy gets here."

In the reflection, Rayna watches them disappear out of the room behind her, and stares at herself once more.

When Teddy leaves, her eyes fade to uncertainty.

She thinks about the party. And her mind leaves Teddy behind and strays to Deacon. Like she told Maddie, he will be there. He's not much for label parties, but he did write the song with her, and she told him yesterday in polite terms that she'd be pissed if he didn't show up to take his half of the credit.

They have come a long way in the 7 years that Deacon has been back in her band. They are in a good place, a friend place, a professional place. But they still live tangled in each other's lives. They walk into each other's houses unannounced. They occasionally fight, and occasionally sit up in her living room til the wee hours of the morning with an unfinished song and a pizza on the floor between them. Only now her girls and husband are usually asleep upstairs. It's not perfect, but it works.

"Shifting gears", she calls it. She wrote a song with that title once. It's a great song that nobody will ever hear, along with all the other ones that blatantly tell what it _really_ is that her and Deacon have; a twisted mess of music, love, feelings, and regrets that can never be undone. That place, they do not go back to. As tangled as they are, there is a definite line they get to that never gets crossed. She is married to Teddy, and that vow she made she will honor.

Onstage, the line sometimes blurs a little. Rayna is careful of certain things that still come as an instinct once in awhile without even realizing they have done it; a hand on a hip, a long look, a hug that lasts a second too long. Old habits die hard. And then next day the paper will be full of speculation. They are the non-couple everyone loves to love, much to her embarrassment and Teddy's absolute loathing. Teddy doesn't understand why she can't just find someone else to be her lead guitar player but the life in her music is not there without him, they are one and the same.

She and Teddy do not tangle. They run parallel, like lines in a smooth section of highway. She loves him, because he is an amazing daddy and devoted husband, and he treats her well. He doesn't drink. He doesn't cheat. He doesn't lie. He does his thing, and she does her thing, and they parent their children easily. They are a team.

Lately their parallel lines are getting farther and farther apart, though, and she feels it. Teddy's broken real estate deal, the worries about her leaving on tour…. They keep their distance from each other more, stop talking about things, put on a good face in front of the girls. She throws herself into her music. It soothes her soul, but it also carries her farther away.

She stares at herself now, wondering about the road she's on. But it's too late to turn around. Some things must be left in the rearview mirror.

##################################

Before the limo picks them up, Maddie presses a large piece of paper into Rayna's hand. "Mama will you give this to Uncle Deacon when you see him?"

Teddy's face fades to a frown, and Tandy, standing in the doorway with Daphne in her arms, gets that pinchy look on her face.

It irritates the hell out of Rayna, when the two of them get like that. They got what they wanted six years ago with her keeping Maddie's paternity a secret, surely Maddie knowing Deacon as an uncle isn't going to hurt anything.

"I will certainly give it to him," she promises Maddie, kissing her girls goodbye.

In the limo, Teddy waits five minutes before he lets her have it.

"Why do you encourage that?"

"What?" She says absently, staring down at Maddie's drawing in her hand.

"All this Uncle Deacon stuff. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Rayna sighs, and carefully folds up the picture to put in her purse.

They've had this argument before. Sometimes she swears they're going around in a big old circle, and one day they're gonna end up right back where they started.

"Teddy," she says softly. "Let it go, okay? I married you. And we have these two beautiful little girls and a wonderful family. Our life is good."

Some of Teddy's irritation fades, and he reaches for her hand. "You know I love you. And our family."

"I love you too." She says. And she does. It might not have started out as that, but it has grown into it. "This is the first night we've had out together in a month. Let's enjoy it."

Things have been tough lately, although Rayna is too stubborn to admit it out loud. She will do her damnest to hold it together as long as possible for her girls.

##################################

At the party, she is inundated by cameras and reporters as soon as she and Teddy step out of the limo.

She graciously accepts congratulations from Marshall Evans, the head of her label, taking enough pictures with the reporters to satisfy both the label and the magazines for now.

"Congratulations, Rayna, you've done it again."

"Well, couldn't quit while we're ahead, right?"

"Our number one artist, anything we can do to make you happy, you know it's yours."

"I can't take all the credit for this song," she says with a knowing smile. "Deacon gets half of it too, wouldn't sound half as good without him." Edgehill is the label that started with her as their one fledgling artist. They owe her, and she damn well knows it. She went to the top and took them along for the ride. It means she has the creative freedom to do what she wants now, everyone else be damned. It is a good feeling.

"Ah, and we know that as well."

Deacon has decided to show up after all. She spies him across the room looking as naturally handsome as he always does even though you know he doesn't give a damn much about what he's wearing. He's a man who undoubtedly gets better looking as he ages. She would know. She was there when he was 20. And now she's still here 18 years later. It's hard to imagine it's been 18 years. He's now officially been somewhere in her life longer than he's been out of it.

And of course he is here with another one of his "collection" tonight, she notices. There is some little blonde thing hanging off his arm who looks like she probably should have a curfew.

She ignores the spurt of jealousy that hits her right between the eyes. One thing Deacon is not…is lonely. Women flock to him like geese on a lake in the spring.

"Jeez," she says dryly when they run into each other a little while later by the bar, her to refill her champagne and him to refill his water glass. "Is that one even old enough to drink?"

"Hey now, she's 25," he protests, with a smirk. "Gotta do something with my off time, right?"

She rolls her eyes. Someone catches his arm to ask him a question, and he turns away.

There's always this formidable thing between them. They know it's there, and they never talk about it. It's always been there, and it will always be there. She tries to push it away, but sometimes it finds itself coming to the surface purely by accident.

They have their moments, like the one a few weeks ago.

_Rayna watches, leaning against the edge of the stage, irritated as he swallows the face of a girl who has long gorgeous dark hair, who giggles at him and kisses his cheek before turning to leave. "You know, it would be nice if you didn't have to parade everything you sleep with through here." She says, not bothering to hide her irritation. _

_ The other members of the band look at each other and slink away. They've seen this fight before. Many times. The best thing definitely to do is stay out of the way. _

_ Deacon raises his eyebrows. Sure, he does it on purpose sometimes, brings em around just to get the satisfaction of watching her face turn green. None of them ever mean anything. They never have, except her. Sometimes it just pisses him off, though. "What would you like me to do, Ray? Wait around forever for you to decide to divorce Teddy?" _

_ "That's not gonna happen, and you know it!" _

_ "I do know it!" He says, raising his voice. "I've known it for seven years, Rayna. I've been trying to move on for seven years. Why can't you just let me?" _

_ All the color drains out of her face. _

_ He rubs his eyes looking tired. "You can't have both of us, Ray. It doesn't work that way." _

_ But it kind of did, and they both knew it. She would go home to Teddy and her babies and play the happy wife and pretend everything was fine….and then she'd come here and pretend that some little part of her still didn't ache to get back all they lost. She'd write with him, and sing with him, and then go home to her husband. That was as good as it got for them now, and they both knew it. Most days it was fine. Some days it was downright painful. _

_ "I'm sorry." She whispers. _

_ "Me too." He says, looking sad. He reaches out and pulls her in for a hug. Hugs are allowed, even though they seem to linger long after they're supposed to lately. This fight is over, even though he knows they will have it again one day soon. They can never stay mad at each other too long. They need each other too much. _

_#################################_

Deacon watches her from across the room as she works the crowd. His little blonde date is already history, probably off to find some old rich Nashville businessman who will buy her the diamonds and cars she wants. It's no loss on his part.

Rayna seems happy. But there is a shadow in her eyes lately, and he wonders what put it there. She is wearing a blue strapless dress that makes her look stunning as always, and Teddy is at her elbow looking proud as hell. Of course he is. He's got the queen of the ball.

It's been years and him and Teddy still can't much stand the sight of each other. They act civil in front of her, but he thinks Teddy is not much better than any of the rest of Lamar's henchmen, and he knows Teddy thinks he's a washed up drunk.

Sometimes when Teddy comes to the shows, he purposely, blatantly looks Rayna up and down onstage to piss him off, and then shoots Teddy a knowing look as if to say "I was here first." Rayna always gets mad when she notices this going on, but it's worth it, just to see that smug look wiped off Teddy's face for a minute.

He does his program, goes to his meetings, plays in Rayna's band, and sleeps with any girl that can strike her temporarily from his thoughts. But in the morning the nameless face goes home and she always comes back. He doesn't think he will always love her. He knows it. Rayna pulls him in. She always has. She is the reason he's stayed sober for the last seven years. She gives him a reason to be a better man.

She loves Teddy, she says. And Deacon has no doubt she does. After all, they made two beautiful daughters.

Even though he refuses to admit it, he doesn't _really _blame her for not waiting. She's worked hard for the success she has, and she deserves it. She deserves to have a family, and that's something he never would have been able to give her.

She's only his on the stage. And somehow that's better than nothing.

################################

Before the party ends, they find themselves standing next to each other again, standing by the door saying goodbye to the last bunch of label bigwigs. Rayna is waiting for her limo to appear, and Deacon is waiting for the valet to bring his truck.

"Where's your date?" She can't resist asking.

"I'm thinkin she found someone she liked better," he says, amused at the sass her statement carries. "Where's Teddy?"

"He went home an hour ago. Rehearsal tomorrow at 2?"

"Yep. Sounds like a plan."

Back to business as usual.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Rayna hands him the folded square of paper from her purse. "This is from Maddie."

Deacon laughs at the colorful depiction of him and Maddie. Lots of grass and hearts. Something that must be her pink guitar. Both of them have blue hair and stars for eyes, and apparently she thinks he is 10 feet tall. "That little girl of yours is something else, isn't she?" He will keep that stuck to his refrigerator until the paper disintegrates.

"Yes, she is," Rayna says with a small smile.

It's moments like this again, seeing the oblivious connection between him and Maddie, where the insecurities creep into Rayna's thoughts and hit the bruise that surrounds her heart all over again.

_But I did the right thing_, she thinks. _This is the way we need to stay. I can't blow up all of our lives by telling him about Maddie now. Especially his. _He's been sober for seven years now. He seems solid, content. Maybe not happy, but as happy as Deacon is ever going to be considered. She is terrified to disrupt that_. _She _cares_ too much to disrupt that, and she is damn proud of how far he's come.

"What you thinkin?" Deacon asks, nudging her shoulder with his.

He always knows.

She sighs. "Where do you think we'll be five years from now? "

"Well," he says thoughtfully. "You'll probably still be on the stage. Teddy will eventually get mad enough to make you fire me, and I'll be sittin on a street corner singing for tips."

She smacks his shoulder, and laughs quietly. "That'll never happen. You're family, Deacon. You know that right?"

He doesn't say anything but his face crinkles into a smile, and she can see it in his eyes. It means something, to hear her say that. It is the truth.

"Anyway…see you tomorrow, then?"

"You know you will. Goodnight, Ray."

"Goodnight, Deacon."

They might have shifted gears, but he still calls her "Ray", just like he did the night they met 18 years ago. It still slips out so easily, and she tucks it away in her heart, just like she has done with other things in an old suitcase at home; songs, a ring, letters, an old tshirt, a hundred red guitar picks…..

She watches him get into his truck and drive way, and she gets in the next limo to go home to her husband and her babies and put "what could have been"s out of her mind. For now.

She can't see the future, that five years from now the line that separated her and Deacon will be more blurred than she ever imagined. It will taunt them, and test them, and make them both face their own failures. It will be their undoing, and almost the death of them before it is erased completely. And it _will_ be erased. It will leave a new spot on their slate for a new chapter of history. They won't need to write it, it's already written itself years ago when a teenage girl found herself a guitar player. It is written in the stars, the stage, and two hearts.

They have no choice but to follow the road that takes them there.


	6. Chapter 6

**This one is a little spoiler-based, but it seemed like the perfect way to end it. I don't own any of these characters, I just borrow them from nashvillewrites for awhile. Thanks for reading and all the great comments, you guys are awesome! **

Rayna knows she should be feeling an awful lot of things. Excitement. Nervousness.

And instead, she's hiding in the bathroom. In fact, she might have been hiding for the last 30 minutes.

She's marrying Luke Wheeler tomorrow.

Once again she will marry another man that isn't Deacon.

Once again, she is battling to convince herself that this_ is_ the right thing to do.

The feeling of Déjà vu overwhelms her as she stands at the sink vanity. The mirror does not lie. She can fake the smile for others, but the reflection sees what's underneath it, the person who looks so lost and tired and sad. Once it was a teenage girl in the mirror, and suddenly it is this 42 year old woman who has made such a mess out of her life she doesn't know where to even begin untangling it. More than anything, she suddenly wants to be that sixteen year old girl again. At the beginning of her life, with all those choices still ahead of her. She'd make the right ones this time. All the right ones.

She can't bear to look anymore.

Feeling defeated, Rayna sits on the edge of the bathtub, staring down at the ring on her finger, twisting it over and over again.

Then she realizes her hands are shaking.

Downstairs, the party is still going in. It's been going on for hours, wedding planner people running everywhere setting up things for tomorrow, and then they'd had a rehearsal right in the middle of it all. Luke's ranch is a hubbub of nonstop activity.

The scene from the last two hours plays itself on a replay role in her head over and over.

_"You know, this is ridiculous," she found herself saying to Bucky as they stand off to the side watching a work team of men carrying in a 10 foot tall ice sculpture with her and Luke's faces carved into it. "I told him he was going way overboard. We could have just done this with family in the backyard. I did this giant wedding thing once already with Teddy." _

_ "Well, you know," Bucky said with an apologetic smile. "Luke never does anything halfway. Speaking of him, are you going to change your name when you two are married? The press is asking about that." _

_ "Hell no!" She said quickly, without hesitation. "I will always be Rayna Jaymes. It's not Wheeler, and it's not Wyatt. That name is mine, and I've earned it." _

_ "I'll let that be known." _

_"I'll sure as hell be glad when this is aIl done and we can settle into a normal life", Rayna says with a sigh. _

_ Bucky raised his eyebrows. "Ray….this is it. This is how it's always going to be. You know that right?" _

_ "Well," she laughed uneasily. "I'm sure it will calm a lot after the wedding is over. And I'm barring any more magazine spreads for at least six months. We need a little time out of the spotlight." At a table in the opposite corner, all four of their kids are sitting slumped over at a table absolutely miserable, not a one of them looking like they are thrilled about the events of tomorrow. _

_ "I'm sorry," Bucky said, looking concerned. "but I don't think so. Tim and Faith have been married for 20 years and it's still like this for them all the time." _

_ As she looked around at all the people milling around, she realized for all her years in the business, most of them are not friends but mere acquaintances. And way too many of them are reporters. Luke was standing in the middle of all of it with a beer in his hand, alternately entertaining a group of people with some story about the tour and giving out orders to the crew. He looked happy, she realized. But this is him. He lives for the spotlight, thrives on it. The bigger it gets, the happier he will always be. _

_ This is not her. Her home life and her work life have always been separated by a very distinct line. Somehow in the last few months it has been blurred away. It's not supposed to be this way. It's supposed to be the happiest time in their lives, shared with family. It's not supposed to have anything to do with hit records, or CMA awards, and surely it is not supposed to look like the world's largest business transaction was about to take place. _

_ It wouldn't be this way with _him_, she thought suddenly. He'd be happy with the private life she craved. _

_ Guilt crept over her at even thinking of Deacon in that moment, and her heart sunk to as low as she swore it possibly could go. _

_ But she kept the smile pasted on her face and accepted congratulations from the next person who approached. _

Now, Tandy knocks softly on the door, chasing the image away. "Honey, are you okay? You've been gone awhile."

"I'm fine," Rayna replies in a neutral voice through the door. "Just fixing my makeup. I'll be out in a few."

"You don't sound fine."

The tears spill over, she knows her mascara is leaving black streaks on her cheeks, but she chokes back a sob that threatens to erupt.

Pretty much the last time she'd been this close to completely losing it had been with Liam in Chicago. It seemed like so long ago, and really it had barely been a little more than a year. So much had happened in that year, a complete whirlwind of everything being turned upside down. Her divorce from Teddy, Deacon finding out about Maddie, the accident…. For a second there she'd thought they had a chance, and then the accident had changed everything.

That debacle with the Rolling Stone reporter last month has rattled her. Badly.

But nothing has rattled her as much as Deacon's words standing outside his house a few weeks ago. _"I love you," he_ _said without even a second of hesitation. "And that ain't gonna_ _change. Not in two weeks, or two years, or if you marry Wheeler and stay with him for 50 years. You're it for me, Ray. Always have and always will be." _

_ She closed her eyes. "Don't say that, Deacon. Please." _

_ "It's the truth." _

_ The way he looked at her could still melt her, just like it had been doing for years. Damn him. And always that hope in the back of his eyes. _

_ Why? _She wanted to ask._ How the hell can you love me when I've given up on us so many times? _

_ She didn't ask, though. She was afraid she didn't really want to know why. _

_ "I'm getting married in two weeks, Deacon," she said quietly. "I know what I said in that article, and I know what it means but…." _

_ "So don't." _

_ "Don't? You think it's that easy?" _

_ "Yeah. Just don't. _

He said it so simply. Like it was just as easy as slipping off a ring and changing her mind, and it wasn't. So she just…walked away again, with his eyes on her back following her. She _had_ to walk away. She was too scared to know what would happen if she didn't. He was everything she was terrified of losing all over again. Ten minutes later, as she was driving home she pulled over and sent him a text. _I think we should keep our distance for awhile. _

She got one back within a minute.

_ If that's what you want, Ray. _

That had been two weeks ago. She hasn't seen him. She hasn't heard from him. Luke is relieved. He has made it perfectly clear that things were gonna change.

He wants Deacon to be the dad who waits in the car and never comes to the door.

Somehow the thought of that hurts her worse than anything, and the words of that reporter, of the article keep echoing in her head over and over again, as soon as she is alone, not busy with her girls or her record label or her fiancé. _If Deacon wouldn't have relapsed, would the two of you be together? _

_ Yes, _she answers herself sometimes. But that doesn't sound right. It sounds like she's saying it's his fault, and it's not. It's both of theirs. Time, circumstances, the accident. It all plays a part.

But no doesn't sound right either. No sounds like she thought they never had a chance. And they did, for a little while. She thought they had it right that time.

Then again, it was never going to be right until he knew about Maddie. She can see that now, what a mistake she'd made by not telling him years ago. She should have told him, no matter what the consequences. He had a right to know. If she respected him as a man, as a father, as much as he deserved, she would have told him and no amount of bullrushing by her sister, Teddy, or Lamar should have stopped her.

She smiles involuntarily at the thought of Maddie and Deacon together. They are like two peas in a pod, those two. Of course Maddie will always love Teddy as her dad, but Deacon is different with her. He listens. He understands the hold music has on her. He has a way about him with Maddie that she never would have expected, the patience with her teenage mood swings, the no-nonsense way he will tell her like it is and try to steer her down the right path at the same time. Then again, he has always had this way with her girls, even before he knew Maddie was his. Maddie respects him. It hadn't been the anger or disapproval in either Rayna or Teddy's eyes that night of her and Colt's party that had set her back to straightening out her attitude: it was the disappointment in Deacon's face.

It's what makes him an amazing man and an amazing father.

And it's what makes every single thing she said in that article true.

She knew it when she was nineteen, telling her sister _I'm swear I'm gonna love that man for the rest of my life. _

That's never gonna change.

It never has changed.

She knows this.

Suddenly it seems so ridiculous, that they both love each other and somehow they are not together. She starts to laugh softly, an awful mixture of crying and laughter that makes her eyes burn and her chest feel like it is on fire.

She has almost forgotten how much a broken heart hurts.

Tandy doesn't wait any longer, and just barged right into the bathroom. She stops dead in her tracks at the sight of Rayna sitting there mopping off her face with a mountain of Kleenex. "Oh lord, what's going on? Are you okay?"

Rayna swallows hard around the lump in her throat and the awful feeling that has settled in her stomach, and forced the rest of her tears away. "I…uh….really just don't feel too well. Too much champagne, maybe. Can you take me home?"

Tandy raises her eyebrows. "Is that all? Because your face is a disaster."

"Thanks a lot."

"Don't lie to me, I'm your sister," Tandy says, sinking onto the edge of the tub next to her.

Rayna closes her eyes. "Tandy, I don't think I can do this."

"What?"

"This wedding. This …..marriage. All of it."

Tandys jaw practically hits the floor. "Rayna. It is _the night before the wedding."_

"I _know_ that," she says, her voice louder than she intended.

She breathes slowly, in and out, and says in a quieter voice. "I know that."

"What is bringing this all out now?"

"I love Luke," she says, struggling to find the right words. "But his lifestyle….it's not what I want, you know? And it's never going to be enough for him. He's always going to be about the fame, and I'm always going to be about the music."

"Does this have anything to do with Deacon?" Tandy looks like she is ready to start cursing up a storm before even asking.

Rayna can't even find the words. "Partly," she admits.

"Only partly?"

"Tandy, I have loved that man since I was sixteen years old. You know that."

"I also know you went through this when you married Teddy too," Tandy reminds her. "You were so nervous, you threw up in the garbage can for twenty minutes before you walked down the aisle."

"That's because as I recall there was a third passenger at that wedding," she says dryly. "And by the way, look how that all turned out. If that ain't a sign I don't know what is."

"Luke is not Teddy, and this is a different situation," Tandy says firmly. "You're older and wiser now."

"Maybe not," Rayna says, shaking her head. "Did you see the kids tonight? They were miserable. I keep thinking this is all going to go away after the wedding but…Bucky's right. It's never going to go away. What am I doing to them?"

"Rayna, you love Luke. You're just nervous."

"I do….but you know, Luke gave me an ultimatum the other day," she says quietly. "He doesn't want Deacon around. At all. That just seems so…unfair."

"Well maybe it's best, you know?" Tandy says softly. "You're going to make a life with Luke, and do you really blame him? He just wants to know you're in it 100%."

She feels the tears run down her face once again. "I can't, Tandy. I just can't. The thought of my life without Deacon in it….I want him there more than I want this. I don't know what that means, except that this…I can't make the same mistake again."

Tandy is quiet. "Listen," she says gently, reaching for another tissue and tidying up the stray mascara marks on her sister's face. "I think you're just a little overwhelmed. Why don't we go say goodnight to Luke, and I'll drive you home, okay? Tomorrow's a big day, I'm sure a good nights' sleep will make you feel better and clear your head a little."

"Right," she says shakily. She hears her voice saying it, but some part of her deep inside has already made up her mind. She knows this, no matter what Tandy says.

She splashes some cold water on her face, fixes her makeup, and they go downstairs, her arm tucked into Tandy's, and find Luke still doing crowd-control, although almost everyone is gone now, and her girls have gone home with the nanny.

Luke's eyes light up when he sees Rayna and he pulls her in by the waist for a hug. "There you are. Where ya been?"

"Just talking to people. I'm gonna go on home," she says softly, pressing a kiss to his mouth. "It's been a long day."

"You better," he grins. "Bad luck to see the groom after midnight."

She forces a smile.

Tandy stands nearby, almost like she's supervising.

_She thinks I'm just gonna throw that ring at his feet and make a run for it_, Rayna realizes. She understands why Tandy worries. After all the drama of the last year, Tandy just wants to see her sister happy.

"See ya in the morning, then?"

"See ya," she echoes softly.

But it feels more like goodbye.

#####################################

Tandy drives her home, and for a moment they sit in her car outside the house where the girls are inside asleep.

"Feeling better?" Tandy asks sympathetically.

Rayna shakes her head.

_ I need to see him_, that is her first thought. Why was that always her first thought? Because he calmed her, he reassured her. He knew her. He always had.

"I don't really think you should be alone," Tandy says firmly. "Want me to stay with you?"

"I'm a big girl, Tandy," Rayna reminds, annoyed, as she climbs out of the car. "I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Go on home. I'll talk to you in the morning."

She waits until Tandy's tail lights disappears around the corner, and then she gets in her truck and starts driving.

And she calls him. He doesn't pick up, so she leaves a hesitant voice mail.

_It's Rayna. I really need to talk to you. Tonight. Can you call me back please? _

She drives past his house first, but all the windows are dark, and his truck is nowhere in sight. Disappointed, she keeps driving past the Bluebird, down Printers, past anywhere else she can think he might be playing, but his truck is nowhere in sight.

Her last hope is the cabin.

But Deacon isn't there either.

She sits on the side of the road in the dark, bites her bottom lip, and instead dials Scarlett's number, glancing at the clock on the dash. 11:50.

Scarlett answers on the second ring.

"Hey Scarlett, have you….uh…..seen your uncle at all tonight?" She says trying to sound normal. No big deal, right? He was just probably playing a gig somewhere and had his phone off.

"Rayna? It's kinda late, is Maddie okay?"

"She's fine," she says. "I just wanted to um…talk to Deacon about something. Have you heard from him?"

Scarlett glances over at her uncle, asleep in that hospital bed, finally, after restlessly tossing and turning and complaining for hours about wanting to go home and feeling like a damn helpless baby. Thinking about what he'd said.

It had scared her to death to find him face down passed out on the floor of his hotel room, scared her enough that she called 911 and they brought him in in a wailing, screaming ambulance. It had been awful enough sitting there waiting, but when that doctor came in with a "team", she knew it was bad.

Nothing could have prepared either her or Deacon for the words that came out of his mouth.

Deacon needed a heart transplant. And he was living on borrowed time without one.

As soon as the team of doctor's got done talking about their "game plan" and left the room, she started crying.

And Deacon just sat there kind of dazed, like someone had dropped a piano on his head.

When he finally came out of it, he looked right at her and said

_I don't want anyone to know. _

_ "Rayna needs to know," Scarlett said quietly. "And Maddie." _

_ "Nobody," he cut her off. "You got that? When the time comes, I'll deal with that." _

Scarlett does not much like the sound of that at all. They say they're sending him home tomorrow with a bunch of pills and a heart monitor he's supposed to wear even though she doubts he will, and she has no idea what happens after that, but all of it is terrifying. Deacon is the closest thing to a father she's ever had.

She lets out a sigh and speaks into the phone at Rayna waiting once ," she says, feeling awful for out and out lying. "I haven't seen him_. _I uh…I think maybe he's got a gig in Memphis."

"Oh, um…okay. Thanks anyway I guess."

"Are you okay?"

"Oh sure. I'm great."

"Aren't you…getting married tomorrow." Scarlett asks cautiously. "You should prolly be getting some sleep or whatever." Something is wrong. She knows Rayna well enough to know that.

"Yes, I guess I am." Rayna says softly as she hangs up the phone.

She sits there in the dark on the side of the road for a long time, staring up at the stars through the windshield and wishing they could give her the answer somehow.

She feels like that 16 year old girl again. Alone. Lonely. Searching for that person to understand her. Or that 23 yr old, missing him, that 27 yr old, holding his new baby daughter in her arms and wishing he was there. Wishing it didn't hurt so much to think of all the time she'd wasted being scared to take that chance with him again.

He was much braver than she ever could hope to be, to put it all on the line like he did. His words came back to her once more. _I love you, and that ain't ever gonna change. _

For the first time in a long time, she wasn't afraid of it. She'd lost too much already, being afraid.

26 years, she has loved him. Over half of her life. Sitting there she starts to realize what a mistake she has made, to wish for a clean slate when she had one with years and years of history written on it in permanent ink, that could never be erased. They _are_ each other's history, all tangled up together like those young kids they used to be, laying on the couch in a tiny crappy apartment, all molded together with a guitar and a notepad nearby, and nothing else mattering except each other and the music.

She closes her eyes and imagines that he will walk in behind her one day soon, put his arms around her and kiss her neck. Call her Ray and whisper "No one will ever love you like I do."

She lets one more tear drop roll down her cheek, and then restarts the engine to head for home.

Tomorrow, she will fix this, she thinks. Hopefully it's not too late.

####################################

Deacon has been sitting on the cabin front porch for hours now, just staring out at the water. It was cold, winter about to settle in for a long nap any day now, and it stung his face, but he needed the shock, something to make him realize this was really happening, all of it.

Rayna's message on his phone last night had been strange, but he hadn't gotten to those messages until him and Scarlett got home from the hospital this afternoon. Scarlett didn't want to leave him alone, but he waved off her hovering, got in his truck, and went right to the cabin.

_Wonder what she wanted to talk to me about,_ he thinks now. Scarlett had sworn she wouldn't call Rayna. He needed time to process everything. Right now he isn't even thinking about the fact that they had yesterday handed him a virtual death sentence. He keeps looking at the numbers in the corner of his phone. The clock ticking away.

Rayna is getting married today.

_I should just do it,_ he thinks. He could be that guy. The one who walked right in the church and down the aisle and says "I object" when the preacher asks.

But he had no right to do that now.

She deserved someone who would be there. Someone who wasn't broken.

He starts flipping through all the pictures of Maddie in his phone. Imagining all the things dads were supposed to get to do. Teach her to drive. Threaten her prom date. Walk her down the aisle on her wedding day. Maybe the man had upstairs had some kind of ulterior motive after all, because at least Maddie would still have Teddy to do those things.

He watches the minutes tick away, and then realizes it's probably done now. She'd be Mrs. Luke Wheeler by now. And he has lost her for good. It's like reaching for the brass ring, touching it with your fingertips, and then falling on your face before you get it. He is finally being punished for his sins.

With a shaky sigh, he closes his eyes and swipes at his face with the back of his hand.

The footsteps on the porch make him look up, expecting Scarlett coming to check on him again or trying to feed him.

He is stunned to see Rayna standing there in her winter jacket and her black boots with her hands in her pockets.

"What are you doing here?" He says before he can stop himself, and then he realizes if she's here, she's not _there_. She's not walking down an aisle. She's not saying "I do" to someone else.

Rayna chews her bottom lip the way she does when she's nervous, "Can we talk?"

It was over now.

She'd sent Tandy to Luke's house that morning with the ring. And asked not to know what happened. It wasn't right, any of it. But marrying him wouldn't be right either. And she'd sat up all night thinking about it. She was still awake when the sun came up, but her decision had been made by the light of the stars.

_ Luke opens up his door on Saturday morning. There's people running everywhere setting stuff up, and Colt is missing his shiny $500 dress shoes. He thinks the kid hid em on purpose, but it's not worth the battle. _

_ "Tandy?" He looks surprised. "What are you doing here? Is everything alright? I mean, Rayna? Getting ready and all?" _

_ She sighs. "I'm so sorry," Tandy says quietly. _

_ "What do you mean?" he_ _laughed uneasily. "Is she alright?" _

_ "She's not coming." _

_ All Luke could see was the people in the background running around behind Tandy. Setting up the chairs, the archway for the ceremony, that ginormous cake Rayna hadn't really wanted anyway. The tent for the 500 people they expected. The press was everywhere. _

_His mouth sets itself in a hard line. "Well, I'll go find her then. I'm sure she's just nervous." _

_ Tandy shook her head. "Luke-." _

_ "Where is she? At home?" he was already brushing past her. "She's probably just got cold feet." _

_ She stops him. "Luke," she said softly. "She's not there." _

_ He feels like he'd been sucker punched. _

_ "She's with him." _

_ "I don't know," Tandy says honestly, and Luke believes her. She reaches out and presses something into his hand. _

_ The ring. _

_ Luke looks down at it, and it hurts, pretty damn bad as a matter of fact. _

_ "Well," he says to Tandy, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Guess now I know how it feels to be Deacon after all." _

"Uh….I guess," Deacon says, unable to keep a hint of sarcasm out of his voice. "But can we state the obvious first? Aren't you supposed to be getting married right about now?"

Rayna sighs as she sinks onto the wooden porch swing next to him. "I drove around last night looking for you. Did you get my message? Scarlett told me this morning when I called again that you were headed here."

He thinks about marks in the crook of his arm where they'd taken the needles out. She'd been driving around looking for him while he was in the hospital getting the worse news possible. Karma really was a bitch. "I got it this morning. Is Maddie okay?"

Rayna nods, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat. She has pep-talked herself all the way up here into saying what she needs to say, and now it seems it's a lot harder than it should be. "It wasn't Maddie, it was….me. I just wanted to see you."

"Why?" Deacon knows almost what she is going to say before she says it, and even though his heart wants to hear it, damn it, Rayna has this thing know as _awful timing._

"Well," her voice shook a little. "To be honest, every time I have doubts about things, I seem to go to you. You always know what to say. And I couldn't find you. And I guess….not being able to find you like that, it just made me realize what my life would be without you. I don't want that."

"So what, you just…didn't do it?" He says, still a little stunned. "You're not marrying Luke."

"I couldn't," she whispered. "I can't. You have my heart, Deacon, and you've always had it. I've tried and tried, and I can't seem to get it back.

Awful, awful timing, he thinks. He should send her away. Because with everything else going on, he knows Rayna. He knows she's gonna wanna step right in and take care of him. She's has to do that before, and he'll be damned if he makes her do it again. But now, that brass ring is right in front of him, if only for a little while.

"Rayna…." He says quietly. "I can't keep being the guy standing on the side of the stage waiting for you to change your mind. It's not fair. And it hurts too much being like…I don't know, your backup or something when it doesn't work out with someone else."

He could see the tears in Rayna's eyes.

She deserves this, she thinks. She's done so many things to hurt him, she deserves to hear this.

"But don't you see? You never were my backup. Everyone _else_ was the backup. I was just…."

"Scared," he finishes.

"Yeah," she said. It is almost a relief to say it out loud. "Scared."

"And what are you now?"

"Terrified," she whispered.

They sit there in silence for a few minutes, eyes locked, neither one knowing what to do next.

"Me too," Deacon says quietly, holding out his hand. Not for the same reasons, exactly, but the truth was, he is scared to death. A virtual death sentence will do that to a person.

Rayna doesn't even know how she moves, but she does, taking his hand and letting him pull her in.

And that's where they stay, laying there together on the porch swing for the longest time, her fitting perfectly under his chin and against his shoulder just like she always has. He closes her eyes, and she closes hers, and neither one of them says a word. Just feel.

Deacon is afraid to move. He is afraid this really is just a dream. Maybe all of it is just a dream. Maybe tomorrow they'd call him and say "hey, we mixed up your test results with someone elses, you just had a cold last week."

He has no right to ask anything of her. He needs to tell her. But right now he just needs to hold her. Tomorrow, he tells himself. Tomorrow he'll find some way to tell her. Or the next day. Or next week. For now, she's given him something to fight for. He sure as hell isn't giving up now. He's got the brass ring and he will hold onto it with all the strength he has.

"I'm thinking of taking the girls away for a few weeks," Rayna murmurs after awhile. "Just…..get them out of Nashville for a little while. Away from all of this. The media fallout is probably going to be awful."

"That's probably a good idea. Maybe it'll all die down by the time you get back. Where you goin?"

"Mexico, I think." Rayna says. "Somewhere warm and sunny."

He's real quiet. Thinking.

"Come with us," she says softly.

Deacon laughs a little. "Trying to cause more scandal?"

"I'm serious," she smiles. "You probably need a little vacation of your own after that tour."

_Aw, hell, _he thinks. _Maybe I won't get another chance. _

"Okay."

"Okay? Really?"

"Yeah," he says with a grin. "Really."

With a content sigh, Rayna sits up, and his hand lingers. On her shoulder, her arm, drifting down to tangle her fingers in his. The hand that had no ring on it now.

It really isn't a dream.

Rayna stands up, and he follows suit, both of her hands in his, and walking backwards, he pulled her towards the door and she didn't resist. She follows him willingly. Into the cabin. Into his arms, back into his heart which she'd never really left in the first place.

#########################################

_**Next morning **_

Rayna stands at the bathroom vanity, wearing nothing but one of Deacon's t-shirts, and looking in the mirror and trying to tame her hair, which is a wild mess. She definitely looks like she spent all the night in the arms of someone who has loved her several times over.

She laughs a little. "Something is gonna need to be done here," she says, gesturing to her hair. "Because Tandy is gonna take one look at me when I walk in the door at home and read me a riot act ten pages long."

He can hear her from the bedroom, and has to put his two sense in as he stands in the doorway in unbuttoned jeans and no shirt. "What's that saying? Rode hard and put away-."

"Hey now," laughing, she cuts him off with a kiss. "Don't tempt me, or we're likely to spent all day in that bed, and the girls are at home packing for the trip. I told Tandy I'd be back by noon. " She is nothing but smiles this morning. They both are.

"Did you tell em I was comin' with?"

"Nope," she says. "Thought it would be a nice Christmas surprise. Maddie will be thrilled."

Deacon slips his arms around her from behind and kisses her neck, and Rayna's smile grows exponentially. She likes this reflection, seeing them there in that mirror. Like it should be. They've come full circle, the two of them, in more ways than one. The reflection doesn't show a lonely teenage girl anymore, or two kids too naïve to see what's ahead, it shows two people who have fought the world and won. Two people who have spent a lifetime in each other's lives, everything, every second leading up to where they are right now.

Who the hell knows what the future will bring, but Rayna intends to be damn sure they're sitting side by side on the front porch of this cabin 40 years from now.

` "I love you," she says with a contented sigh. "This is it, right? We're gonna get it right this time."

"We are, Ray." Deacon murmurs. He need to tell her, and he will. But right now, he just wants to burn every moment into his mind and his heart.

"How do you know that for sure?"

"Because no one will ever love you like I do."


End file.
